It all came from my alarmingly sardonic 6 year old son while listening to the car radio:

1) KGSR (Triple A): “(Sigh) Just another lady pretending to have a Western accent.”

2) KHFI (Hits): “This song sounds like a TV commercial for Barbies.”

3) KXMG (Hip Hop): “I just realized that these songs have no goals.”

4) KMFA (Classical): “No one cares anymore about Tri-Kofsky’s 33rd Symphony.”

5) KLBJ (Classic Rock, after airing Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man”): “I think we better hear that one again.”

The old Adams Extract building on I-35, which I waxed nostalgic for back in ’07, also caught the fancy of Mike Judge, who attributes the building as a key inspiration for Extract, his new movie. The location is still nothing but a heap of dirt, but the original neon sign now adds class to the considerably less attractive building in Gonzalez, Texas (above). At least we still have Benji’s photo of the building. And thanks to commenter Sterling Crim of Adams Extract & Spice, LLC, who tells us that the Austin History Center “has the original architectural files” and that they are “loaded with photos inside and out of the plant.”

Some time ago I went poking around for more information about a mysterious, hard-to-forget folk track I’d come across which featured a vaguely familiar Texas-fried voice singing sixties hipster poetry. The song was “Silly Rhymes” by Lavender Hill Express, and it turns out that the voice belonged to Austin legend Rusty Wier, who I’d once actually had the good fortune to back up on bass. But it was the source of this info that was my other big discovery, which is something I’ve been meaning to get off my chest for a while – the Sonobeat Records website. This is easily one of the most lovingly maintained, well-executed label history sites you’re likely to trip over.

A crucial part of the Austin music story, Sonobeat – during its lifespan of 1967-1976 – pumped out early records by Johnny Winter, Mariani (featuring teenage guitar monster Eric Johnson), the Conqueroo and Shiva’s Headband, to name a few. The late Bill Josey Sr., station manager of Austin’s KAZZ-FM, co-founded the label with his son Bill Josey Jr., who was also a DJ at the station, and the website does them both proud. Loaded with well-organized textual content that’s bejeweled with photos and soundclips galore, the website demands you to stop dead in mid-surf and read, read, read. It really does show us how it’s done and I hope more than a few web music biz historians around the world will look and learn. There’s no indication on the site about who’s behind it, but the level of detail and occasional use of the first person causes me to assume it’s someone with the last name of Josey. Whoever it is, though, please consider yourself much appreciated.

Hats off to Boneyard visitor Benji for having the foresight to capture the Adams Extract building in full nighttime splendor (and for sending it along). The sign is apparently still up at the new location. Here’s a slightly enlarged view.

I’ve never had a good picture-taking habit, but I’m trying to change that. I deeply regret not having taken snapshots of certain buildings I always took for granted while they were still standing but have since been torn down. Like the Adam’s Extract building in the middle of a field on South I-35 on the way to Buda. I always imagined that everyone who worked there looked like vintage Betty Crockers. The odd thing about the great building’s demolition is that nothing has replaced it for a number of years now. I know that one should celebrate open spaces, but I can’t do it in this case.

Vic’s Restaurant in Oak Hill is another. It stood all by its tiny lonesome in the middle of a large plot of land since the late fifties. It was really nothing special food-wise (although you could get really full) and it had deer heads mounted on the wall. And here’s something – one day a week the entire staff would dress like Star Trek characters.  Several years ago Vic’s, with no warning, was transported off the face of this planet. And that large lot it occupied for decades is still there – mysteriously vacant, I’m estimating, for at least five years.

(Here’s a pre-demolition 2001 article about Adams Extract from the Austin Chronicle. The company moved to San Antonio the following year.)

[Update: See a gorgeous nighttime photo of the Adams Extract Building.]